Once there was a northern lass
with hair as red as fire
Her heart set on a fencing man
who filled her with desire.
She vowed that she would have him
and someday be his bride –
Even if the fencing lad
rather would have died….

So go the women of the Northern Army
marching into love!
No cupid’s bows – their siege engines
rain passion from above.
You’d best be heavy shielded
and in sturdy armor bright
if a woman of the Northern Army
has eyes for you tonight!

This lady was in love with him –
she made up her mind.
She might just have to jump on him,
or hit him from behind!
After all her plotting,
that northern lassie fair,
thought he might best be taken
while sleeping in his chair.

*chorus*

She stelthily attacked him
with motions strong and bold
but he slept with his schlauger on –
twas quite a fight all told –
though the maid did surprise him
he was ready with his steel;
they fought until exhausted
and then had their first meal…

*chorus*

Now the two of them quite merrily
and regularly fight,
they argue in the morning
and brawl all through the night.
Blessed are they with true love
so it is seen and said…
though when her eyes alight with fire –
his often fill with dread!